


a Story

by Pain101



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: All plot no sex, Angst, Devil May Cry (Game), Kyrie and credos dad, Minor Character Death, Other, Post-Devil May Cry 5, Pre-Devil May Cry 4, Sanctus - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:47:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28251882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pain101/pseuds/Pain101
Summary: ...Ramble on about the past. (Vergil)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. Hell Has It’s Own Way of Welcoming You Back.

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes you find a fic on your computer after months, and realize it’s an interesting concept so you decide to try to continue it.
> 
> Anyway, for those who were curious enough to click on this fic, this is me exploring how I think Vergil would go about explaining one aspect of his past to Dante, as well as a little dive into how I think Vergil sees the world.
> 
> Disclaimer:  
> This short fic will not have a happy, or satisfying ending.

Still. That was the word to perfectly encompass this world.

It was a world filled with things, and yet, somehow, it still managed to remain removed from the hands of time. Not to say, that this world had escaped time itself. For not even a world built upon magic, could ever truly hope to escape the allure of time. Rather, it was a world devoid of progress. Filled with what felt like the cool air from after a rain-fall that would never clear, no matter how much time passed. As it neatly tucked itself, between the spaces of then, and now.

In the distance of this place, two equally tall male figures could be seen with their weapons drawn. Engaged in what looked to be a battle of sorts. The men fighting off what seemed to be many wasp-like beings, roughly the size of an average house cat, and oozing some sort of slime-y purple substance, from between their long pincers.

Interestingly enough, despite their much greater numbers, the wasps were not holding any ground, and between the two men, they were dropping like regular old flies. As both swordsmen wasted no time skill-fully cutting through their greasy bodies. However, for every wasp the men struck down, two more would soon emerge to replace their fallen comrades. Leaving this insect slicing to continue, until the two men were faced with twice the amount of targets, than they originally started out with, and upon noticing their new predicament, the man in red shouted-

“Okay, As much as I would _love_ to continue playing exterminator all day. This is getting a little tiresome, so if you have any bright ideas Vergil, I’m all ears!” Said the man in red, slicing the wasps that had drifted a little too close to his sword. “After all, you’re the one much better acquainted with this Hellscape.” He added.

“I don’t know what gives you the impression, that I was hanging out with demonic wasps all the time I was here, but, that was certainly _not_ the case.” Hissed the man in blue, continuing to assist the man in red, in rhythmically cutting through the creatures.

“Well, clearly, which is a shame, because a stingy person like you, would have fit in perfectly,” Quipped the man in red, not trying to hide the obvious smirk plastered to his face. “And, are you seriously telling me, you don’t know then?” He continued to taunt.

This last taunt seemed to reach the other man in _some_ way. Instantly causing him to pause, while his icy blue eyes wandered off into the distance… “It doesn’t seem as if they are coming from the branches of the Quilphoth tree. Which means, it is likely that their nest is somewhere in the ground. Therefore, we need only note the direction they seem to be coming from, and follow Dante.”

“Atta Boy, Vergil! I knew you had at least _some_ smarts left in you.” Dante loudly praised, with slight mischief sticking to his voice. Wasting no time in taking off in the direction of an incoming wasp, making sure to slice the giant ‘insect’ in half along the way, as he shouted, “Time to show these ugly workers, who the real queen bees are!” to no one in particular.

Allowing Vergil to take a much needed moment to compose himself. Pushing the silver strands of hair that had fallen in front of his face, back to where they belonged, before re-joining his brother.


	2. Hell Can’t Bind You, but It Can Delay You For a Bit. (And sometimes, that can feel like the same thing.)

After establishing the direction of their incoming foes, it took almost no time for the men to reach the nest of the large insect-like demons. Who had surprisingly managed to give them much more trouble, than they ever thought possible. This great annoyance was certainly not lost on the men. With their irritation openly coming out through their fast paced movements. As the brothers both greeted, and defeated, the ‘Queen Bee’ in a matter of minutes.

Following this small-victory Dante began to stretch his arms, listening to the crackle of his joints that certainly weren’t what they used to be anymore. While what was left of the oozing Queen’s body, dissolved into a black dust around the brothers. Dante sighed, blankly looking off into the murky sky, when a thought suddenly flickered across his mind…

“Hey Vergil. Do you ever wonder what happens to demons once they die...? I mean, in human terms, you think Heaven, Hell, and _maybe_ Purgatory, but, seeing as we are currently standing in hell, with no constant stream of demons... _Perhaps_ that’s not the case.”

“...I… try not to think about it too much. The idea of being trapped no longer appeals to me, but, neither does what lingers outside of the cage.” Vergil replied coldly, examining the image of the Quilphoth tree’s branches growing in the distance, “Somethings off. We should have been able to get to the vulnerable part of the Quilphoth tree by now, but it looks as if the demon world has started to wrap around it.”

“Hmm, your tone doesn’t really help, in regards to this being a good or bad thing,” Dante remarked.

“I don’t think it’s inherently a bad thing, but there was also nothing about these outside effects, in any of the books I read.” Vergil replied matter-of-factly.

“ _Oh_ , _shocker_ , you’re telling _me_ , that the blood sucking demon power tree is acting _unpredictable_? _Damn_ , _never_ would have seen _that_ coming.”

Making sure not to acknowledge Dante’s sarcastic words, or even presence for that matter, Vergil continued, “At the very least, I’m pretty sure, it only really means that our journey may be slightly longer than anticipated…Although, if it’s creating pockets of empty space, then I will most likely be unable to use the Yamato to open any proper portals until the tree is gone.”

“Ah, _finally_ the universe gives you a time-out with your portals.” Dante said.

Immediately causing Vergil to shoot a glare at him, while he put his hands up in a ‘don’t attack’ gesture. “The brotherly love is _truly_ overwhelming over here,” Dante sighed, turning away as he casually added, “Okay, which way then? Because I can’t imagine stopping in this world is a good thing, when empty spaces –whatever that means, are being created.” 

“As I said, it shouldn’t really affect us in anyway. _However_ , whether the demon world is actually expanding, or if it’s just the tree messing with our perception, I can’t say…Now, since we made no progress on our trip down the path, let’s try up this time.” Vergil said, walking up the sloped path. With Dante a few steps behind, being sure to keep his distance from the brother he still wasn’t sure he could fully trust.

“Wouldn’t moving upwards, take us away from where we need to be?” Asked a rather confused Dante.

“In Theory, it would. In practice, I’m guessing the opposite. After all, even demon trees are _alive_. Would you want to cut a clear path to yourself, if you couldn’t move? _Especially_ after just _finally_ being able to fully grow after so many years?” Vergil questioned back.

“I hate to say it, but you’re right. Hiding your existence doesn’t overly sound like a bad idea when you put it that way.” Dante agreed, “Although, I can’t say I’m a fan of the twisted logic.” He added.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...This short interaction was really fun to write...
> 
> (I’m sorry I know my chapters tend to be really short, but at the same time I like to cut things off where I think it works...)


	3. Confession

_Normally_ any journey through the demon world, would entail encounters with blood thirsty demons both big, and small. Demons who would often be drawn solely to the smell of the blood that lingered in the brothers veins. A ‘sin’ they could never escape.

Although, the current situation could be considered less than normal, and the brothers were facing no real trouble, as they made their way along the path. Running into a few lost demons here or there, but nothing that came close to resembling the swarms of demonic wasps, that had bothered them just a brief while ago.

Meaning that at the moment. The most pressing thing attacking the two brothers, was the deafening silence, and stale air that placated this place, without the usual busy noise to drown it out. 

Outwardly, if the men were feeling uneasy about this new found silence, they certainly weren’t showing it. Albeit inwardly, Dante was certainly as uneasy as could be.

It had been a long time since he had spent this much time in the demon world. A place he was already not too fond of. Where time felt almost non-existent, and this too quiet atmosphere, was not helping to put his mind at ease. He liked silence, _sure_ , when he was surrounded by familiarities...Silence was a calming thing he didn’t quite get often enough, but, silence in an unknown place, that _should_ have been filled with danger, and adrenaline...was just _painful_. 

Lucky for Dante however, it seemed Vergil, who had been lost in his own thoughts up until then. Had finally decided that it was time to break the silence. Drawing Dante out of the tension of his own head, and back into the bland path-walking reality as he spoke,

“…Dante, I don’t expect to ever receive your forgiveness, nor is this me asking to be forgiven in anyway, but…..thank you for looking after the boy in my place, despite everything I’ve done.” 

Upon hearing these words, Dante couldn’t help but crack a smile, after all that happened, it really was nice to see that a part of his brother had survived after all.

“HAH, _now_ , where is this coming from?” Dante asked rather loudly. Causing Vergil to grimace as his eyes continued to fixate on the path in front of them.

“Needless to say, punishing a boy for the sins of his Father, isn’t exactly my style. Besides, your boy there is more of a lone wolf than you think, so I didn’t really have to step in _too_ much.” Dante said, Offhandedly adding, “Glad to see you do care in some way though.”

Vergil continued to remain silent. In a sense he seemed to be giving Dante an opening of sorts, and seeing as Dante had time to kill anyway, he decided to take the opportunity to scrape at his brother a bit,

“…So, can I ask about _that_ story now? Or is it still a tender subject?”

Vergil’s eyes turned to briefly look at Dante, before flickering away again as he responded, “Story?” 

Without missing a beat, and with an amused scoff Dante eagerly replied, “Don’t play dumb. I’ve got time, and I can’t say I’m not curious about my dear brothers past. _So_ , let’s hear it.”

“You’re assuming there’s a story to begin with.”

“Yeah, _well_ , with you, there always seems to be… _but_ , you also just thanked me. I know I can be a little dense at times, but even I can sense something off about that one…. _or_ , am I wrong in thinking, that Nero may be more than just an unknown bastard to you?”

Vergil sighed, running his fingers through his hair, “Unfortunately, it’s not that simple…the man who started the tale made sure of that.”

Dante lifted one of his eyebrows in a questioning expression, unsure of where exactly Vergil was going with this. Not that a puzzled expression meant much to his brother, who was unable, or at the very least unwilling, to look anywhere but the path in front of them as he calmly began to speak…

“I say man, but…no, he wasn’t a man. He was nothing more than a boy, a boy who thought he was a man. He played the part well for a time, but he was still foolish, and eventually, the foolishness of a boy caught up to him. When that happened, he had to accept the fact that everything he thought he knew was wrong, that he wasn’t the hero…and that the thing the boy had thought would serve as protection, turned out to be the very thing that ended up getting the person he cherished the most killed. In the end, the foolish boy wasn’t strong enough to protect anything, and instead of taking responsibility for what he had done. He decided to blame the child that was left behind. Before abandoning his ‘first’ home, in a desperate attempt at finding something more in his ‘second’. “

Vergil cut his words off there. Even so, it didn’t sound as if the story was done. _Actually_ to Dante it sounded as if a lot of the puzzle pieces were purposely being misplaced.

“Did the boy find what he was looking for?” Dante asked.

“You tell me.” Vergil coldly replied.

Hearing this Dante was even more confused.

Although he could more or less guess, what he thought his brother was trying to tell him. That somewhere along the lines of their young separate lives. Vergil, the brother he originally thought of as aloof, and heartless. Had actually found someone to care about, only to lose them, and because of it, or perhaps alongside everything else. He had pushed himself away in order to attempt to fix, the unfixable thing known as fate. A hopeless journey to begin with, but one his brother had certainly taken.

“Yah-know, it’s kind of funny, even in your own story, you aren’t the main character, huh?”

“…Dante, I don’t think it would surprise you to hear that I was wandering around with a lost mind for years. So, it also shouldn’t surprise you, when I say, that I would be lying if I said that it still completely felt like my story anymore.”

“Well Vergil, your life is _not_ a story. If you had realized that sooner, maybe your dumbass wouldn’t have hurt so many innocent people.” These last words were spit out with more than a little bit of bitterness, yet the statement felt more empty than accusatory.

“You say that Dante, and yet here we are, tracing the very paths of the book characters we were named.”

“Are we now? _Why is that?_ Because you _happen_ to know how to navigate Hell better? _Do you even hear yourself?_ Hate to break it to you, but no damn book is dictating our lives. All of our decisions, whether you like it or not, are on us.” Dante said, pointing his hand towards an annoyed looking Vergil. “Besides, if that were the case, wouldn’t I be pining over a babe named Beatrice by now?” Dante sighed, as his hands neatly folded themselves on the back of his head.

Vergil stopped.

“Uh, Do you see something that I don’t?” Dante asked, stopping a few steps ahead of his brother, on the still very much vacant path.

“That name...” Vergil whispered.

“Beatrice? What about it... _Oh_ … _no_ …are you an idiot?”

“Dante.” Vergil staggered, his eyes wide and, with his hand on his face. _”…I killed her.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know what to say beyond, the angst is coming, because Vergil just tapped into a long forgotten emotion called. “Guilt.”


	4. Onomatopoeia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happened that day?  
> Do you know?

Vergil was interweaving back, and forth, from the street to the alleyways of the cobblestone city. Even without him mixing in, the city was keeping itself busy. With it’s usual bustling of people, both young, and old. Filled with the sounds of the street vendors, and casual voices. That would continue to intermingle until it became, the perfect background noise filled with life.

It had been 3 years since he had last been to Fortuna, but in that time, he really couldn’t say that the city had changed all that much.

He had wanted to return sooner of course, but he couldn’t risk it ...couldn’t risk _her_.

Even now, he wasn’t sure if he should have returned at all.

A lot can change in 3 years. He knew that, and just because his feelings may have stayed with him. Even if he continued to yearn for her touch, her laugh, or even just her presence around him. He also would not blame her, if her feelings had shifted.  How could he? When he was the one who had chose to leave without a word. Even after they had spent countless nights together...

No, the distance between them, was the only way to keep her safe.

...But if that was the case, then why was he back?

What exactly was he trying to accomplish, by returning to this place?

In his mental haze, Vergil had wandered into a rather narrow alleyway. Where he was met with the lizard-like eyes of a black cat, staring him down from the other side.

‘Meow’

The cat said, making a display of licking its paw, and rattling it’s bell.

‘Meow’

The cat repeated, dashing deeper into the crisscrossing alleyway. Turning it’s glistening green eyes around periodically, to see if he was still moving in its direction.

Does it want me to follow it? He thought.

Intrigued by the cats unusual movements, he began following it through the winding corridors laced with bricks. Unsure of where it was taking him, or if it was in fact, moving with the intention of taking him anywhere at all. After a few minutes of playing cat, and mouse.They both finally arrived at the end of the path, that was connected to the Main Street.

The cat turned around to face Vergil once again, letting out one last final ‘meow’. It’s eyes turning pure white, while it’s form disappeared into a smokey black mist, that was quickly taken away by the gentle breeze.

...That’s strange. it didn’t have the scent of a demon on it. Although, now that he thought about it. It also didn’t exactly smell like a cat. Rather it’s lingering scent smelled just a little bit off. As if the person who created it, made it with the hope, that no one would ever look too closely at an alley cat.

Just then, the screams that were starting to erupt from the street, began to fill his ears.

“Where are you blood descendent of Sparda? I smell you.” The giant monster made of shadows, teeth, charcoal ooze, and white wings hissed. Slowly dragging itself through the middle of the street. While Vergil tucked himself deeper into the corner of the alley.

His eyes tracing the movements of the creature. As it excitedly demolished the once peaceful summer scene, he had witnessed just a moment ago in seconds.

The people below the demon were dashing all over, in a desperate attempt to get a way from the living monstrosity’s reach. Some people made it away, while the other more unlucky ones, were ripped apart, or shot down. By the touch of the creature’s shadow like hands. Which must have contained some sort of poison.

Already a few steps back into the alley, Vergil was just about ready to turn around, and leave...  


When something very _weird_ happened.

_Suddenly_ , The creature stopped moving in the direction of the alley he was in.

_Suddenly_ , the creature was starting to turn in a completely different direction. Much to Vergil’s blatant confusion. 

...And then he saw it.

Standing on the sidewalk, just behind a royal-blue mailbox. Was an incredibly small child, with snowy white hair. Frozen with fear.

...

...

...

These next few moments, are where things start to splinter off...

They say, that people’s memories are often known to play tricks on them. 

They say, that no one will ever remember what truly happened, on any given day.

When all is said, and done.

The idea of an absolute truth, is an _illusion_. If it is based entirely on one person’s perception of an incident.

...But emotions, on the other hand, are the most real things of all. 

Someone may not remember what exactly happened, but they will almost always remember, how it made them _feel_. 

These next few moments. Are where the memories fractured, and the emotions took over. 

For someone like Vergil, these emotions are all he has left to cling to...These feelings of sadness, anger, and... _hatred_. 

Hatred for the child who did not move fast enough. Anger at the creature, for daring to make a move in front of him, in the first place. Sadness, at the blood once again staining his hands, and the weight in his arms.

As the endless blood continued to...

** Drip. **

** Drip. **

** Drip. **

Down his arms.

The blood which belonged to the voice of someone, calling out for a presence, that was no longer his own. 

...

What were the last words she had said to him again? 

...

She had _asked_ him to do _something_ but, despite the perfect mouth movements. Her final words were empty. 

...

Had he _truly_ heard her plea?

...

Would anything have _really_ changed if he had?

...

In truth, _he knew_ what she had wanted from him. 

...

But it was _not_ what _he_ had wanted. 

...

He had wanted to take responsibility, in his _own_ way.

...

_In truth_ , He was just selfish. 

...

_In truth_ , he had wanted no more than to return to being nothing, and nobody. 

...

_ In truth, he let himself fall. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happened that day?  
> Vergil walked away.
> 
> —————————-
> 
> I got to have a lot of fun with repetition in this chapter. As well as in exploring the idea of disjointed memories, in a way that hopefully equally comes off as disjointed, vague, and with overwhelming yet satisfactory contradictions. 
> 
> & just a little note but, I would like to think that he walked with “her” body/ soon to be corpse for a bit. Instead of leaving it behind...unlike a certain someone. 
> 
> (Just noticed that my phone autocorrected weight > deadweight, so sorry first time clickers for ruining that moment.)


	5. Hindsight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happened that day?  
> Do you really know?

The once lively street, that the giant creature had been frolicking on only a short while ago. Had been reduced to the empty echoes of pure silence. As the main street welcomed the quiet atmosphere of a graveyard. With corpses, and parts of flesh, that no longer resembled anything in particular, now scattered all over the walkways. While the lifeless slump that used to be the monster itself, continued to ooze a thick gold liquid onto the road.

It had truly turned into a dead atmosphere, devoid of any sound.

All except, for the soft sobs of a crying child. Still nestled on the bloodied corner of the sidewalk, beside a blue mailbox.

From the dark alley that lingered just beside the mailbox, the sounds of a...Tisk, Tisk, Tisk, Could be heard.

This new sound was following a white hooded woman, who appeared from the shadows. Her wavy chestnut brown hair, beautifully spilling out from underneath.

Wasting no time, she gracefully gathered the child that had been left behind in her arms, “What a cutie.” She purred. Twirling the sobbing child around, with a smile on her red painted lips. “Don’t worry little one. You have been blessed with the blood of our saviour,” She cooed, tapping his nose. “And _that_ means, that your happiness is only _just_ beginning.” She added, before disappearing back into the dark alley. Taking the young white haired boy with her.

————————————————-

Sanctus could be found seated at his alter. As he beckoned for the knight standing in the doorway to enter. 

The brown haired man, seeing that he was being beckoned. Neatly walked into the room, and proceeded to kneel in front of the many steps, that led to Sanctus’ throne. 

“Sanctus, as per your order. The creature was released, and the target mortally wounded.” The knight said.

“and what of the child?” Sanctus questioned. 

“Securely in our custody.” The knight answered, without hesitation. 

“Good. His blood will be of great use to us in the future. _Do_ remember that.”

“Of course Sir. However, if I may be so bold...May I ask for an advanced notice, next time you choose to let one of Agnus’ creations freely roam around the streets again? I do have a family you know.” The knight, said sternly. 

Sactus’ lips curled upward as he chuckled, “I know where all of the pieces in this city lie,” He said, looking off to the side in a bored manner. “Your children were _never_ in any _real_ danger, and you will find both Credo, and Kyrie. Safe and, sound when you return home tonight.” After saying this, Sanctus’ smiling face, faded back into a hard line, while his eyes shifted back to the knights. “Now. Make sure, that the child gets put in the correct orphanage that we prepared earlier. So that we are able to properly watch over him...That is, until he reaches an age, where he can become useful to us.” 

The knight hesitated, “...Yes.”

Hearing this response Sanctus eyed the knight, the tone in his voice changing to one of the understanding variety, “I see your hesitation...but as my first knight. Know in your heart, that we do _no wrong_. The saviour has blessed us with a blood descendent, and it is our _duty_ as keepers of this city, to nurture that _precious_ existence. Today was only a small sacrifice, for the _happiness_ of our future.” Sanctus proclaimed, lifting his arms up high, as if to try and, reach the heavens himself.

“You are right. I had a moment of weakness,” The knight said, pausing for a brief moment before adding. “It won’t happen again.” In an even tone. 

Sanctus’ arms returned to the chairs armrests. “Don’t worry. We all hesitate from time to time...we are _human_ after all. Just make sure that you don’t make a habit out of it. In our line of work, hesitation at the wrong time, is exactly what gets the best of us killed.” 

“Thank you for the advice sir, May I go back to oversee the conclusion of the mission now?” He asked, bowing his head. 

“Of course, _who am I_ to keep the knights leader around for meaningless chit chat, at such a crucial time. Be on your way.” Sanctus ordered, his words flowing like honey, while he shooed the knight out with one of his hands. 

“Thank you.” The knight said, already walking back towards the door which he had entered from. Feeling Sanctus’ gaze on his back. 

Arriving on the other side of the door. The knight saw what looked to be a glimmer of black smoke, moving through the hall in his general direction. Making it’s way through his legs, before doubling back, to the windowsill just across from the throne room’s door. Where the smoke quickly morphed itself, into the shape of a perching  green eyed cat. That was now staring down the knight intently. 

‘Meow’ the cat said, just as the knight started to casually walk towards it. Putting his hand out, In order to let the cats smokey presence, sift through his fingers. The light sound of it’s bell, ringing in his ears.

“What have I let myself get into?” The man asked the ‘cat’, with a sigh escaping from his lips. 

‘Meow’ The cat replied. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happened that day?  
> The knights came out to play.
> 
> —————————————-
> 
> (Sanctus is just here now, and Kyrie & Credo’s dad is evil.) 
> 
> So, was the ending of this fic surprising to everyone else? Because I for one, did not expect for it to end in this direction at all.
> 
> However, I also think the idea of questioning everything is a fitting end.
> 
> After all, Does Vergil really know everything? Realistically, Probably not. 
> 
> In which case, you would have to bring in some other side to fill in the cracks, and I’ve always enjoyed the idea of Nero’s Mom’s death, having been carefully planned by ‘The Order’ since his birth. 
> 
> As they are very open to having had tabs on him, his entire ‘orphan’ life in dmc 4. (Which has always been just a tad bit suspicious to me.)
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading :)

**Author's Note:**

> Want to bother me about writing? 
> 
> Find me @vergilsfedora on tumblr


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